The Quiet

Friends,

I hope you're all doing well. I hope you are sitting in your comfiest pajamas (or lack thereof) by the fire, sipping tea, reading your favorite book, smoking your favorite smokable. I wish you straight to Earth Heaven. Because I am not there, and someone ought to be.

I was there earlier. I attended the National Book Festival in DC with a fellow writer and dear friend of mine. We walked along Massachusetts Avenue, speaking of the errors of the system, communal P.T.S.D., and how terrifying fear could make people, relieved that at least in each other's company we were people instead of just colors.We shuffled through the halls of the convention center, swapping story ideas. We listened to poetry unravel from the tongues of masters. We lingered in the book dealers room, sampling the merchandise, and buying enough to keep us reading for months to come.

In short, it was a good day--and then I got home.

My boyfriend lost his debit card. We both looked for it to no avail, but he swears it's somewhere in the house. His bills are due. I do not have money for said bills. We don't know how long another debit card will take to arrive; if we cancel the card too soon, the car insurance won't be taken out and it'll get cancelled.

Then, my family came over. They were full of love--and suggestions. and social anxiety triggers.

Then, my boyfriend freaked out. Then I freaked out. We fought. I walked away.

Guilt set in. Blame set in. Nerves set in. Life set in.

The shoulds are pounding at my door: I should go help him look for the upteenth time. I should just offer to pay his bills with the student loan money off of which I've been living. I should have wrote that last sentence as "with the student loan money I've been living off of," because who the hell cares about grammar outside of academia anyway...?

In truth, none of this is earth-shattering. I can reconcile with my boyfriend. My family only wants the best for me. No one's taken money out of his account in the two days it's been missing, so the card probably is in the house somewhere. We can let the insurance payment go through, then cancel it if it doesn't turn up... Everything will be fine. Everything is fine.

As my breathing slows, I admit not all my shoulds are harmful. In fact, most aren't.

I should write this. I should be more sensitive to my boyfriend's feelings. I should look for work more lucrative than restaurants and retail. I should make the agenda for my internship. I should submit my work to more magazines. I should send out more applications. I should work, and then trust everything will be okay.

If I could just keep the quiet, only let in useful suggestions, and prioritize them without second-guessing, I would probably be fine. Most of us would be. The trick is to find that quiet.

For me, this is where yoga and meditation comes in.
If it does for you as well then let us together find our vinyasas.
If it doesn't, then find something that does.

However we get to that sacred quiet, once we get to it, let us listen. Let us pick one concrete, beautiful should and pursue it with love.
Namaste.

Buenas Noches

Belinda